


O Ka KoKo - Ola hou hoʻomaka hou

by Asa_Meda



Series: O Ka Koko [1]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M, Multi, Original Characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:13:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29222238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asa_Meda/pseuds/Asa_Meda
Summary: This takes place during "Ua Hala". I am an absolute Max fan. I have Asperger's and while I'm not sure that the character on the show was supposed to have it, there's so much in the way he speaks and relates that I can so relate to, that I can't not have him as a major part of my H50 universe.Max has been shot. He is bleeding out in the ambulance. Joe has to make a decision that will change Max's life forever.This is not a Joe/Max story... nope. But I love Joe too.  This will have a kind of slash in it, sort of... but it's mainly my introduction into my L'Sangri universe, Hawaiian style. I have no good knowledge of Hawaiian or some cultural aspects (I'm from Long Island... so sort of like Danny). But I'm willing to learn. If I do something wrong I welcome a correction from anyone who knows better.Oh, not this chapter, but there will be a hint of Max/Steve... but not what you think...This will be the first part of a complete story... stay tuned.
Series: O Ka Koko [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2145549
Comments: 4
Kudos: 2





	O Ka KoKo - Ola hou hoʻomaka hou

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of stuff about nothing was here... going forward....

Ambulance rides were not the most comfortable way to transport a critically injured patient, Max observed as the sirens rang in his ears, neither coming nor going. Just there. Because he was there, strapped to a gurney while EMTs worked over him… and Commander White… Joe. He had been shot. In the abdomen. He was bleeding out. 

“Hang in there, Max,” he heard Joe tell him, his voice steady and military-like, detached but concerned. Joe had told him it was a scratch… he was trying to reassure. But it was not a scratch and had been painful. Fear filtered into Max’s psyche as the whole incident played out in his mind. It was so fast… Max needed to get up, to talk— to say something to someone before he died.

“He’s trying to say something.”

Yes. Joe’s face appeared, moved his oxygen mask away. “Hey, buddy.”

Max wanted to say so much but all he could say was the truth. “I’m dying…”

Joe’s face clouded, became firm. “You’re not going to die today, Max!” The older man’s face leaned closer. “McGarrett’s going to find the man who did this to you!” Joe firmly put the mask back on Max's face as if to make the point.

Man. Max had noticed the drops of blood beyond Fryer’s body. Curious, he followed them, step by step. Someone else had lost blood, more than was good for a normal person but not yet critical. Step by step. There was a pile of skids then a dumpster on his left. Max took another step. There was a woman standing there against the fencing. She wore a long black hoody, her dark hair surrounded her face. Her expression was pained as her hand pressed into her left side…. There were a small puddle of blood on the ground around her shoes...

_“Hey guys! Over here!”_

Even though this was likely the killer, Max’s instinct was to help. But the gun in the woman’s other hand gave him no time and the pain…

Woman. Max struggled again. If he died now they won’t know. They think—

“What is it, Max?” Joe’s quiet tone urged. 

He tried to gesture because his voice was going. He was dying. He knew it… they knew it. But he could do one more thing. As he felt Joe’s head draw near he whispered, “Woman.” His breath was a bit labored now that that mask was off him. “Dark hair. Early thirties.”

Joe’s face came into focus, eyebrows raised. “Are you sure?”

Max nodded best he could. Everything was becoming numb and static. _When a patient exsanguinates rapidly,_ he remembered in a lecture he once gave, senses will usually turn inward. _Only the sense of hearing will usually remain…_

He heard Joe speak, give the information and felt a sense of accomplishment. People generally thought he was too different, someone to be ignored unless they needed something. But McGarrett… the people in 5-0 were different, accepted him with his differences. That was unique and he felt a part of the group, a feeling he did not remember ever having outside of his family.

“His pressure’s dropping,” one of the EMTs announced. Max knew there was fluid and blood going into him, a futile attempt to keep him stable until they reached the hospital. Max appreciated the gesture, but he knew. In a few hours he would be laying on his own autopsy table. Very strange…

“How far away are we?” Joe demanded.

There was a long pause. Max wondered who would answer… tell the truth.

“Too long, sir,” came the hesitant reply.

Another pause. “Do it, Amin,” Joe ordered. “My authority.”

Movement. “Hand me that, Sam,” the man called Amin ordered, likely to the other EMT. “Apply another pressure bandage. Push the fluids.”

What is happening? Max struggled to remain conscious. He vaguely felt Joe’s hand on his, another on his cheek.

“Max, I need you to listen to me. Can you?”

Yes. But he couldn’t move his lips. There was a sensation, a faint feeling of… Joe… touching him… inside.

“Son, this was not the way I wanted you brought in, believe me.” Joe’s voice was close to his ear. “We’re going to make sure you live. Then you and I are going to have a talk.”

Serious tone. He felt Joe softly squeeze his hand. Usually Max was not comfortable with this kind of contact, especially from a stranger. But Joe’s touch was different, as if they had known each other a long time.  


Suddenly a warmth came into his body, then a cold. Max gasped at the mixture of sensation. “You’re okay, Max,” Joe assured, his voice, his presence close. “Your reaction is a good sign.”

“He’s accepted but he’s still losing blood,” Amin told him quickly.

Max jolted as he heard a banging above his head. Too loud. “As fast as you can, Ghaz! We need to be there… now!”

He gasped as his gurney bounced. Pain cut through the fog of his ebbing consciousness. Joe’s touch was there, then another.

“Max, I am Dr Amin Muhammed,” the younger man announced quietly. What… he was a doctor? Max tried to absorb this. Another hand replaced Joe’s on his face. “You need to focus on me… let me in.”

A stronger presence… not Joe… not familiar… invaded. Max’s mind fought back. Too many touches. Too strange.

“He’s Resistant… of course he’s Resistant,” there was a tone of annoyance surrounded by deep concern. “Max, I can help the pain. You need to relax. We’re almost there.”

“Max,” Joe said quietly. “Trust me… you can trust him. It’s going to be all right.”

Joe. He trusted Joe. The doctor’s touch, his presence, was now soothing. The pain receded into the cold that was filling him, enticing him. Dying. Max knew he was dying. It was not unpleasant. But he had so much to do, people to help.

“We’re here!” came a loud shout from behind him, from the driver. Max felt the ambulance slow and stop. “Dr. Saito is ready for him.”

Tenjin Saito? Max wondered as thoughts and reality left him. He had met Dr. Saito once or twice… at lectures and once as a consultation in a death. Saito was an old man who did more research than clinical work. Why would he be working in the ER?

“This is it, Max.” Joe’s assured him calmly. “You can let go now. Help is here. Time to sleep.”

Sleep. Max obeyed the voice. Yes, time to sleep. Max’s world faded to white.


End file.
